


Work in Progress - Eddie the Eagle & Matti Nykänen

by staygold



Category: Eddie the Eagle (2016), Sports RPF, Winter Olympics - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Opposites Attract, Possibly Pre-Slash, Ski Jumping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-24 23:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staygold/pseuds/staygold
Summary: A fic involving two ski jumping legends of the late 80s, Matti Nykänen "The Flying Finn" and Eddie "The Eagle" Edwards. Inspired by the films "Eddie the Eagle" and "Matti - Hell is for Heroes". I'm not too sure where it's going at this stage - just letting the characters carry me along!I really wanted to find a new RP partner to play either Eddie or another character opposite my Matti, but it proved to be an impossible task so I started writing this instead. I'm still hoping a partner might pop out of the woodwork though, so if you feel like playing this out with me (or something similar) please let me know in the comments or email flyingfinnmatti@hotmail.com :)





	1. Chapter 1

Matti crouched and popped his boots out of his skis, glancing at the thumbs-up Coach was giving him. He offered him a smile in return, but only a small, wry one; he didn’t want to give him the idea that he was _happy_ with the way things were going here.

Due to Matti being on the verge of getting sent home for his behaviour just a few days after their arrival in Garmisch, Coach had kept him on a tight leash over the past couple of weeks, coming across even more parental and patronising than usual. To be honest, their relationship _was_ more like a family one than a professional one - Coach had trained him several days a week since he was 14 years old - and that just made them even more likely to butt heads. 

After Matti’s messy beginning to this leg of the ski jumping circuit, Coach had imposed a strict curfew and training timetable on him, under threat of actually sending him home this time if he didn’t behave. He wasn’t to leave their accommodation after 10:30pm, he was to get 8 hours of sleep each night, he wasn’t to drink alcohol, and he was to be ready by 8:00am for each intense day of training. In addition, he was not to argue or complain about training methods, nor drop out halfway through the morning because he hadn’t gotten up early enough to catch breakfast. Matti was pretty sure that the threat of sending him home was hollow; the Ski Federation was making way too much money out of his success to cut him off, and they knew Finland wouldn’t win the team event without him in it. Still, he was doing his best to stick to the rules for now, purely to avoid further confrontation. 

And it was paying off in his jumping. Matti hated for Coach to be right - he’d even thought of faking a decline in his jumps to prove that all work and no play was detrimental, but it just wasn’t in his nature to give anything but 100 percent. He was jumping further, flying smoother, landing more neatly. Coach was beaming like a proud father about it, but Matti bore a chip on his shoulder and thought his mentor was a smug bastard. He loved jumping with a passion, but having his own free time controlled and monitored was not something he had signed up for.

“Well done,” Coach called, walking over to stand next to Matti as the younger man straightened up. “A very smooth landing. You’re improving.”

“I know.” Matti pushed his goggles up onto his helmet and picked up his skis, barely looking at him. “Some might say I deserve an evening off once in a while.” He watched a figure getting ready at the top of the smaller ski hill. That last jump had been exhilarating, but the thought of spending another evening sitting in the canteen then having an early night was souring his mood again.

“Matti…” Coach sighed heavily, turning to watch the next jumper with him. “You know I’m not doing this to punish you. I’m trying to help you out here…I should have done it a long time ago. You need to hold things together if you want to keep jumping at this standard. I don’t think you’re making the right decisions for yourself right now, so as your coach and your friend, I am trying to do that for you.”

Matti was stony faced. “I’m 23, it’s up to me what I do with my time.”

“Well, yes, it’s up to you if you’d rather go home and drink yourself to death instead of winning the Olympics. But you don’t want that and neither do I.”

He scoffed at that. “I’ve been drinking since you first took me on - it didn’t stop me winning the last Olympics, did it? What’s with that? You weren’t bothered about me having a good time as a teenager but you are now? What’s the big deal as long as I can jump?”

“You dropped five places in the last World Cup, Matti, and it wasn’t through lack of talent, was it? It was because you went on a bender and didn’t bother training for two months. That’s the big deal. That can’t happen again.”

The memory of coming 6th overall and 2nd to one of his team mates stung. Matti wished he hadn’t provoked Coach into bringing it up. “That wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t suspended me,” he responded lamely, although the start of the aforementioned bender was the reason he’d been suspended in the first place. He had vague recollections of jetting off to Sri Lanka for several weeks, spending a lot of time in bars feeling outraged about the whole thing, before the Ski Federation had suddenly realised their mistake and asked him to come back and compete. He’d been so shaky and wiped out on the day of the competition that he’d taken an absurd pride in even managing to come 6th. “Look, I’m not saying I didn’t screw up that time, but you don’t need to treat me like a child. I’m going to win the next Olympics.”

They stood and watched the jumper in silence. As the small figure in bright clothing hurtled clumsily through the air and landed hard after a short distance, Matti realised it was Eddie Edwards, the mad Englishman the other jumpers were laughing about. Apparently he was under a delusion that he would be making the next Olympic Games. _Not with a jump like that,_ Matti thought.

“He shouldn’t be on that slope. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s going to end up hurt or worse. In fact, he shouldn’t be jumping at all with no training.” Coach was shaking his head in disapproval. Matti felt a pang of irritation. Why did he constantly have to pass judgement on other people’s choices?

“He’s an adult, he can do what he wants. Maybe he likes jumping because it feels good. Why shouldn’t he? I had no training when I started, none for the first five years, and I still got good enough for you to notice, didn’t I?”

Coach looked at him in surprise and let out a genuine laugh, slapping him on the shoulder affectionately. It diffused the tension a little. “You were young enough to start like that, Matti. God, you’re as crazy as he is. Only difference is, you’ve got the talent to pull it off.” As Edwards reached the bottom of the slope, Coach took his leave. “Get yourself changed and I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” Matti detected a slight note of pleading in his voice. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, he nodded and waved the older man off.

To his horror, Matti suddenly realised Eddie Edwards was heading towards him, his walk seemingly as clumsy as his jumps. Would it be too obvious if he left right now and pretended he hadn’t seen him? Yes, it would. Fuck. 

He steeled himself as if for some kind of impact. It wasn’t that he was unfriendly, or had anything against Edwards; Matti was just completely, painfully socially inept with anyone he didn’t know well. Trying to think of what to say in conversation made him seize up with anxiety. He’d been accused of being rude and abrupt, particularly with journalists, but it was just out of panic and the desire to leave as quickly as possible. This inability to relax and interact with people was the main reason he’d taken to having a drink in the evenings when he’d started becoming known as a ski jumper. Okay, it sometimes got a little out of hand, but it helped him loosen up and make friends - on occasion he could even be funny. 

Right now, though…he was sober, terrified, and had a tired ache in his back. To top it off, it was hard enough having a conversation in Finnish, let alone English. 

Quite in contrast, Eddie Edwards had a grin plastered all over his face. “Hi! You’re Matti, aren’t you? The Flying Finn! So good to meet you! I’m Eddie - Eddie Edwards.” Eddie held out a hand. “Your jumps are unbelievable, I’m a huge fan. Perhaps you could give me some tips? I just need to be able to land the 70m to qualify…” He babbled on as Matti shook his hand awkwardly. The Finn struggled to listen closely enough to decipher the English whilst wracking his brain for how to reply. Finally Eddie stopped speaking and Matti realised he’d been so distracted that he’d barely heard half of whatever he’d just said.

“Er…hello. Sorry, my English isn’t good.” Looking like a deer in the headlights, Matti cast about for words in the language he rarely used. He didn’t know why he had to make such a big deal out of having a basic fucking conversation, but the stress of it was getting to him despite Eddie seeming so friendly. He wished Coach hadn’t left - his English was much more fluent and he could actually talk to people. “Um…I have to go. For dinner and…uh…” He gestured at himself, feeling like a bumbling idiot. “To change my clothes. Put skis away. I’m finished for today.” 

“Oh, okay! Great!” Eddie was still beaming like a kid in a toy shop, his glasses making his eyes look rather large. “No, don’t worry, your English is fine! How about later then? I’ll be working at that bar over there, you see the small one, with the wooden sign? I’m actually staying there, it’s a funny situation. I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out a bit, I’ve kind of plateaued with my jumping at the moment. If you’ve got time, I mean…”

Unfortunately, since he couldn’t think of an excuse quickly enough, Matti found himself nodding and saying “okay” as he shouldered his skis and hurried away.


	2. Chapter 2

Back at the hotel the Ski Federation was putting his team up in, Matti showered slowly, mentally berating himself for agreeing to meet Eddie Edwards. What was he supposed to talk to the guy about? He’d asked for ski jumping tips…Matti didn’t even know what technique he was using half the time, he just did what felt right and it worked. He couldn’t think of any advice that would help Edwards improve enough to compete seriously in regional competitions, let alone qualify for the Olympics. Years of practice were what it took, and the years of youth had already passed him by.

Matti pulled on jeans and a sweater, running a comb though damp hair. Perhaps he should ask one of his teammates to go along instead. Whether they would agree to it was doubtful, though - Edwards was a laughing stock. Matti’s team would probably love to watch their young prodigy suffer through an evening of attempting social engagement with him. He wondered briefly if it would be wise to bring one of them along to make sure he stayed off the booze, but quickly dismissed the idea. They already seemed to think he was an alcoholic; requesting supervision would be too much like an admission of guilt. Plus, if he knew them well enough, they’d probably start drinking in front of him just to wind him up. A couple of them had run out of patience with him a long time ago.

Matti wasn’t sure in his own mind what he thought of the whole situation. He avoided thinking about it for the most part. He was willing to admit that he drank a lot, and that it got him into trouble sometimes, but that was as far as it went. He was not an alcoholic - alcoholics were red-faced older men, not young, world-class athletes. Besides, everyone knew that Finns drank a lot. Particularly in the ski jumping community, where another day of surviving unscathed was reason enough to celebrate. He didn’t care if people got mad at him for making too much noise at night or getting into a fight, but the concerned faces and serious talks the next day were tiring.

In the end, he went downstairs and ate dinner quietly, not letting on to anyone that he was going out for the evening. Then he shrugged on a warm jacket and crunched his way through the snow to the little pub near the ski hill.

He’d had vague intentions of sticking to orange juice and getting back for his 10:30pm curfew, but Matti’s resolve began to waver as soon as he stepped inside the bar, the warm air carrying the sound of laughter and the smell of German beer with it. He felt slightly nervous as a few people he half recognised turned and waved to him…and then Eddie Edwards was in front of him before he’d had a chance to breathe.

“You came! Brilliant. People kept saying you wouldn’t, but I was sure you would.” The Brit was looking at him like he was some kind of hero, his eyes round behind their thick glasses. 

In that case, he wished he hadn’t bothered to come. Still… “I said yes, didn’t I? I don’t know what tips to give you, though.” Matti had rehearsed a few things in English to himself beforehand. “Is there space to sit in here?”

“Yes, of course, come on.” Eddie led him excitedly to a couple of stools at the end of the bar, where he proceeded to pick up and sip a glass of what looked suspiciously like milk. “Can I get you a drink?”

Fuck, yes, he wanted a drink. Eddie was so talkative that Matti hardly needed to worry about holding up his end of the conversation, but he still felt stiff and awkward as he perched on the stool opposite him. “Is that milk?” he asked skeptically, postponing the drink decision a little longer.

“Oh, yes, I always drink milk when I’m in training. Calcium - good for the bones. I don’t really drink alcohol anyway, what with being an athlete…well, I probably don’t need to tell you!” Eddie smiled innocently. Matti couldn’t hold back a snort.

“You’re…not normal. All ski jumpers drink. It’s…more than normal.” Matti cringed internally at his limited vocabulary. It made him sound as stupid as he felt. “But possibly your bones are better than mine. You know what? You have a drink with me, and I will answer questions about jumping. It makes my English better.”

Eddie looked faintly surprised but nodded after a short hesitation, clearly desperate for as much advice as he could get. Matti could already feel himself relaxing now that the decision had been made. Moments later there were two cold beers in front of them. He’d swallowed half of his before he could taste it.

Somehow, the time flew; Eddie asked question after question and Matti was able to ramble on about his favourite topic in the world. After a few drinks his English had improved tenfold and, amazingly, he had started to enjoy Eddie’s company. The Brit might be a bad jumper, but he seemed to be a genuinely nice person and Matti could tell that he shared his passion for the sport. There was no way he could give him the same advice as everyone else - to give up and go home - when he knew himself how good it felt to jump. Even a bad jump was better than nothing. “In fact,” Matti told him, all exaggerated confidentiality, “You might have an advantage, being a new jumper. It fucks up your body - the training, the landings. I need injections in my knees every few weeks. Painkillers for my back. I never know how much longer I can keep jumping.” That thought scared him into finishing another drink. “At this level, I mean. I will always want to jump. But you can start this with a fresh body. I don’t think you can reach a top level, but you could get better, if you train the right way.”

Eddie shook his head in wonderment. “Thanks, Matti. You’re full of surprises.” He’d only had a couple of beers, which in comparison to the Finn was nothing, but he had a pleasant buzz going on. The way this evening had panned out was not at all what he’d expected. He’d seen Matti Nykänen on television over the past few years, then watched him training here in Garmisch, and he’d always seemed like a rather stony-faced enigma - he’d expected him to pass on a few curt tips on technique, if anything, then leave. Now he felt like they’d clicked in some way. He’d been having a proper chat with an Olympic champion for several hours. He almost needed someone to pinch him. 

Of course, the hefty bar tab that Matti was running up also came as a surprise. Eddie wasn’t sure who was paying…but if it ended up being him, he wouldn’t mind one bit.

That thought began to change as the evening ran on. Matti had mentioned something about getting back for half 10, but that time came and went and he carried on drinking. Eventually he was just mumbling slurred responses in Finnish, his head drooping towards his chest every so often. Eddie had never seen anyone so drunk before; he was the opposite of a party animal and hadn’t spent much time in bars until he’d taken the job here. More than a little worried, he asked Petra behind the bar what to do, prompting an unimpressed raise of the eyebrow as she took in Matti’s state. “Get him a glass of water, Eddie - see if you can wake him up enough to get a taxi. If not, he’s your responsibility.” Eddie gulped.

Matti had reached the point of feeling anaesthetised. He was mostly asleep, only the support of the bar keeping him from sliding off his stool. Someone kept pressing something cold into his hand and against his face, their tone of voice insistent, but he shoved it away and groaned, not wanting to be disturbed. Could no one see that he was sleeping? He was warm and comfortable, but every time he had to push that damned cold glass away, it sent the world spinning.

Eddie was still valiantly trying to persuade Matti to take a drink of water when a large figure he recognised as the Finnish coach clomped into bar and made a beeline for them. He said something to Matti, received a mumble in reply, then nodded briefly to Eddie and Petra. “I’m sorry. I’ll take him from here.” Eddie watched, feeling slightly stunned, as the coach bent and hoisted Matti over his shoulder in a practised motion, carrying him easily to a waiting car outside. Everything in his manner said that this was not a rare occurrence. 

Petra was shaking her head. “That boy has a problem. I’m glad you’re a milk-drinker, Eddie.” She gave him a sideways smile. “Help me clear the tables since you’re still here, will you?”

“Of course.” Eddie feigned a casual attitude as he fetched a tray and began gathering used glasses. Although he’d only gotten to know Matti over a few hours, he couldn’t help a sense of sadness and concern building inside him. Matti wasn’t just his ski jumping idol anymore. He really liked him as a real-life person— had enjoyed seeing him open up and relax, even if he’d had to get a bit sozzled for it to happen. Did he really have a problem? But he was doing so well in life, he had everything Eddie could dream of! And if he drank like this often, how could he still jump so well? That really said something for his level of skill, Eddie thought - either that, or he had some kind of guardian angel helping him out. 

Even as he went to bed, he continued to mull things over in his mind. Including, not least, everything Matti had explained to him about jumping and landing. He couldn’t wait to try out some of those tips the next morning. As for what he’d say to Matti the next time he bumped into him…well, he’d think about that when the time came.


End file.
